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Aaron
I’m walking down my front porch steps when Rae saunters up, looking gorgeous in a pink and purple floral sundress. She’s wearing the perfume I love. And she’s wearing the necklace. The slide necklace I got her for her birthday last year.
My heart jumps and for a moment, I wonder if we should be doing this. Today is more thanspending time together. But I can’t imagine not spending it with her. I want to be with her again, right? Even if I’m not completely sure I’m ready yet. I will be.
“Hey, Ace.” She smiles brightly and I forget every concern.
“Hey,” I say back, unable to keep the smile from my face.
I extend my arm out to her and she loops hers through it.
“Chewies?” she asks quietly.
“That’s what I was thinking.”
She nods. “Let’s go.”
We walk the few blocks down to Chewie’s chatting about random things along the way. When we get there and order our food—hot dogs, a shared order of fries, and milkshakes to dip the fries in—we settle into eating in a silence that’s somewhere between comfortable and awkward. Well, it’s comfortable until one of us catches the other staring. Which we’ve both done multiple times.
After we’ve finished eating, we start talking again.
“So, tell me about the summer coaching program,” she says.
I can’t help but smile. I’m not sure if it’s because I love what I do or because she’s asking me about it. “I don’t know exactly what it’s gonna be, but I’m excited for it. I get to work with pitchers every day and hopefully help them have a successful year or maybe even help them get into the school they want. Hell, just helping Jamie is worth it, but this will be even better.”
She’s smiling from ear to ear. “I’m so freaking proud of you, Aaron. And happy. I love hearing about this.”
I tilt my head. I know there’s more she isn’t saying. Her eyes are joyful, but they’re sad, too. “But?”
“Can I be honest?” she asks.
“Always,” I say, taking her hand. “I always want us to be honest with each other.”
“Hearing that makes me want to celebrate with you. Jump into your arms. But then I feel like I’m not allowed to. That would be too girlfriend-y. Then I feel awkward. It’s felt that way a lot.”
I nod. “It has.” Then a smile plays on my lips. “Probably because of ourblurred lines,” I whisper.
She squints at me. “Don’t sing the song.”
I lean in and whisper a few lines in her ear.
She swats at my chest. “I hate that song.”
“I know,” I say devilishly, leaning back in my chair.
She fixes her eyes on me. She bites her lip and then her mouth pulls into a flirtatious smile. Her eyes are playful. Actually, no, her eyes are filled with desire. One hand slides up into the back of her hair and starts playing with it.
I know this look.
Usually it’s the look I’d see right before she’d attack me.
One leg crosses over the other and she squeezes them together.
Holy shit.
I feel like I’m on fire. And south of the border things are firming up.
Fuck.
